1983: A Prequel
by phorosz
Summary: A prequel to the events of the film, set on Thanksgiving Day, 1983.


**_Part I - Arrival_**

* * *

_Rock Harbor, Maine._

_November 24, 1983. Thanksgiving Day._

The brand-new, dark red Ford Tempo sedan coasted up to a stoplight in the outskirts of Rock Harbor, Maine. Its driver, thirty-three year-old Jack Evans, tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. The light was just the way Jack remembered it from over a decade before – slow.

Just like everything else about Rock Harbor.

It had been a great place to grow up in the '50s and comparatively wild '60s, but as soon as Jack had graduated high school in 1968 (three years after his older brother, Wallace), he took his full ride scholarship to Stanford for all it was worth and made a beeline for California. He made the most of those four years, getting a masters in the growing field of computer science. After that, Jack had decided to get in on the ground floor and started a computer software business in 1973.

At first, he was solely working out of a mildly dingy apartment in San Diego, barely able to make ends meet even with a full time job stocking merchandise at a local Montgomery Ward's. Barely one or two calls per-month – requests for computer assistance – had been his average for just over a year. That is, until he met Janice.

Janice Dolan was an attractive blonde, of average height, with long golden hair and hazel-green eyes, and despite the prevailing stereotypes about blonde women, Janice was of above-average intelligence. A native of Phoenix, Arizona, she'd gotten into San Diego University on a full ride scholarship of her own in the fall of 1970 and was about to graduate with honors and a masters in social work. Jack had fallen head over heels for her; Janice, though seemed hesitant about 'another computer geek' when she learned of Jack's profession. But after only three dates, Janice realized that Jack wasn't just 'some nerd' desperate for attention: he truly loved her.

She graduated on June 7, 1974. Afterwards, instead of moving back to Phoenix, Janice moved next door to Jack and decided to help him organize his business into a more manageable structure. Though she had virtually no business experience, Janice's reorganization worked like a charm, and within months, calls from all over the country were coming in, and Jack soon hired his first employees (mostly unemployed post-college students), all while still working out of his apartment.

Then, in a near-whirlwind series of events, Jack and Janice got engaged in December of '74, were married two months later, and moved themselves and the business to Phoenix. To this day, the business still operated out of that same office space near downtown.

For the next six years, they'd lived a content and relatively well-balanced life. The one thing Jack remembered the best from those years was their US Bicentennial hike into the Grand Canyon in July of '76.

He didn't think he could ever forget that.

They'd started out on a trailhead near the rim, and however many hours later, they finally reached the bottom. It wasn't until then that Janice had even thought about the exhausting climb back _up_ the trail. It had been, indeed, but just like the person she was, Janice never complained, even when she was obviously in pain. Fortunately, they'd had plenty of water between them and managed to make it back out without getting too dehydrated. Those memories and photos, however distant, always brought a smile to Jack's face.

Jack looked over at Janice, seated in the passenger seat, and smiled at her.

"What are you thinking about, Jack?" she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as well.

"Oh, just life," Jack said. "That and the Grand Canyon. Remember?"

Janice laughed. "Remember? How could I forget? I'm the one who talked you into it."

Jack chuckled and nodded. The stoplight finally turned green, and the car glided through the intersection.

Not a few miles on, Jack turned onto a narrow road, just barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other, and no lane markers whatsoever. A curtain of leaves kicked up behind the Tempo as it wound its way up the twisting ocean-side road. Eventually, it stopped on the right-hand side and Jack flicked on the turning signal, waiting for another car to pass in the opposite lane. Once it was clear, Jack made a left-hand turn into a driveway flanked by a pair of small, square stone columns. One was obviously a mailbox, while on the other hung a sign that read '_Private_'.

For the next several minutes, as the car made its way along the relatively narrow roadway, Janice admired the view of the Atlantic – _Scotia Bay, _she reminded herself – and instantly made a mental note to get back to the Pacific at some point. Living in Arizona, the closest they could get would be the northern Gulf of California, the only coastline the state had.

Jack briefly noticed the look Janice had on her face. "Guess it's been a while since you've seen this much water, huh?" he asked.

Janice nodded.

"I know you like to go swimming, Janice, but unless Wallace somehow added a heated indoor pool, you're all out of luck."

She gave Jack a playful hit on the arm. "I wasn't thinking about swimming here. Especially after your stories."

"Yeah," Jack said, chuckling. "Even trying to swim in the summer we'd run the chance of getting pneumonia. Living on an inlet of the North Atlantic isn't exactly like living in Tampa or Galveston."

Then they passed the crest of the drive and the house came into view. It was a large, rambling white house, built in the early 1900s, with a wraparound porch and four stone chimneys accentuating its New England-style appearance. There were already three cars parked at the very end of the driveway: a brand-new Chrysler station wagon, Wallace's 1970 Mustang, and a late '70s Ford Granada coupe.

"Looks like your parents beat us here," Janice said.

Jack smiled wryly. "Can't say that's a surprise."

As their car coasted closer to the house, Janice turned in her seat and gazed on their only other passenger.

"Guess who's still asleep," she said, her eyes twinkling.

Jack chuckled. "Can't say that's a surprise, either."

That passenger was their two year-old son Mark, buckled into his car seat and fast asleep in the back. The rambunctious toddler had protested rather vehemently, and not entirely in English, when they'd first started out from Arizona nearly five days ago. Fortunately, he'd finally quieted down after a quick stop at Oneida in western Oklahoma, and hadn't been much trouble since, aside from a few all too-obvious – and unfortunately normal – reasons.

Jack finally brought their car to a halt beside the Granada, put it in park, and disengaged the engine. The silence was practically deafening. The only sound was that of the gentle crashing of the waves on the nearby rocks and the ticking of the cooling engine. Jack sighed in relief.

"We're here," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning heavily back in the seat. After letting that sink in, Jack finally got out, stretching his legs for the first time since their overnight stay in Albany, New York.

Janice opened the rear passenger door and climbed into the backseat, where she unbuckled Mark and lifted the still-sleeping boy into her arms. Fortunately, she'd had the sense to put him into a good jacket as far back as Erie.

Moments later, the front door opened and out came Wallace Evans. Roughly three years older than Jack, Wallace had combed back, wavy blond hair, and was dressed in a red sweatshirt and blue jeans. He jogged over to Jack and shook his hand before clapping him on the back.

"Good to see you, Jack."

"You too, Wallace," Jack replied.

"Have a good trip?" Wallace asked.

Jack smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Except for Mark throwing a fit the first day or so out, we had no problems whatsoever."

"That's good," Wallace said. "Henry tried something similar when Mom and Dad got here yesterday afternoon."

"They've been here since yesterday?" Jack asked. His brother nodded. Jack grinned. "Has Mom been telling Susan what to do in the kitchen? Or has Dad been stumbling over himself trying to get the TV working?"

Wallace groaned and nodded. "Both."

Jack just shook his head in amusement. "That's just like them. But, hey, they're the ones who wanted to sell the house in the first place. They just had no idea you'd be the one to buy it."

Now Wallace chuckled. "True." Then he turned to greet Janice. "Long time no see, Janice," he said, a warm smile on his face.

"You too, stranger," Janice replied with a wink, accepting a quick, and rather awkward hug from her brother-in-law.

"So, this is Mark," Wallace guessed, looking down at the brown-haired toddler asleep in Janice's arms.

"This is my baby," Janice said, beaming with pride, gently stroking her son's hair.

"Then let's get in before he gets cold," Wallace suggested.

Janice nodded in agreement. "Jack, you mind getting the bags?"

Her husband nodded.

Wallace laid a hand on Janice's shoulder and led her into the warmth of the house. The second Janice walked through the front door, a whole set of delicious smells met her nose.

"Turkey, stuffing, rolls, mashed potatoes, corn, and pie," Janice guessed.

Wallace was impressed. "Good nose, Janice."

Janice cast a glance at Mark. "Sometimes too good."

That brought a hearty chuckle from Wallace.

"Wallace! That them?!" a voice yelled out from the living room.

Janice winced, and a sigh escaped Wallace's lips before he closed the door. "Yes, Dad," he said in an exasperated tone.

An older man, of average height and largely gray brown hair strode out into the entryway. "What'd you say, Wallace?" he asked.

"I said, 'Yes, Dad'," Wallace grumbled.

"Oh, right," he said. The man then caught sight of Janice. "Janice!"

Janice motioned for him to be quiet. "Hi, Dan," she said in a low voice.

"It's good to see you, girl," Dan Evans said, embracing her in an awkward bear hug, much like Wallace had. Then he got a good look at Mark. "And this must be the little guy I've been hearing so much about."

"Sure is," Janice said with pride. "This is my little Mark."

Dan gave Mark's head a gentle pat. "He's a sound little sleeper, isn't he?"

"That he is. But he can make a fuss when he wants to," Janice said.

"Oh, don't they all," Dan said. "I had Wallace's little rascal running around last night, sounding like an Indian. Feather on the head and everything."

"I'm almost glad you did, Dad," Wallace said. "That means I finally found someone to get all that energy out of Henry."

"Had that kid wailing like a banshee was more like it."

Janice turned to see Amy Evans, Dan's wife, and her face lit up. "Amy."

Amy gave Janice a warm smile and embraced her daughter in-law. "Janice. And he must be Mark."

Janice nodded.

Jack finally walked through the front door, laden with suitcases and carrying bags. He looked around the entryway. "Well don't stop on my account. Just bringing in the bags is all."

"Good to see you too, Jack," Amy said, her voice underlain with a mild hint of sarcasm.

"Here, let me help you with those," Dan said, moving forward, his hands outstretched.

Jack gratefully handed him two of the heavier bags and started toward the steps. Then he turned to Wallace.

"Which room did you say, Wallace?"

"Middle one, second floor."

Jack looked surprised. "It's a tad small, isn't it?"

"Figured you'd want to be close to Mark."

"Okay, so where's Mark sleeping?" Jack asked.

"In Henry's room," Wallace replied. "Our old room. Since Henry's already using a bed, I set up his old crib in there for Mark."

Jack nodded. "Thanks, Wallace. We weren't entirely certain Mark would go for a sixth night in a bed. And somehow, he sleeps better in the car."

Wallace just shrugged. "What can I say? Kids."

"That about sums it up," Jack said as he trudged up the stairs, his father trailing behind, lugging the leather suitcases.

Then Mark seemed to choose that moment to wake up. A surprisingly loud yawn issued from his mouth and his eyes flickered open. The first thing he saw was Janice.

"Hey, you," Janice said. "We were wondering when you were going to wake up, sleepyhead."

Mark gazed up at her with his light green eyes. "Mark a sleep-head?" he asked.

Janice nodded, a smile on her face.

"How long has he been talking?" Amy asked.

"Six or seven months, give or take," Janice replied.

"That's about how long Henry's been talking," Wallace said. "He was trying before that, but what came out wasn't even remotely English."

Mark looked over at Wallace. "Inglish?" he asked, curious.

Wallace laughed. "Well, he's close, I'll give him that."

"Sounds like I'm missing some fun out here," a voice sounded from behind Amy. That was Susan, Wallace's wife of nearly six years.

"Susan! Look who's here," Janice said, lightly bouncing Mark in her arms.

"Is that who I think it is?" Susan asked, a touch of excitement in her voice.

"Meet my little Mark," Janice said.

"Mark sleep-head," the toddler replied.

Susan smiled. "He's adorable, Janice."

"Thanks. What about yours?" Janice asked.

"Henry? As far as I know, he's still sleeping. Dan ran him pretty ragged last night with the whole Indian routine, and I can't entirely say I'm sorry about that. Little guy's been running _me_ ragged the past few months."

What sounded like a hooting and warbling noise suddenly came from upstairs, and Susan shook her head. "Speak of the little devil."

Moments later, a small blond-headed figure with shaggy hair came bounding down the stairs, still calling out in that strange noise. Dan and Jack followed; Jack had adopted a look of bewilderment, while his father seemed ready to burst out laughing. The blond-haired figure skidded to a stop on the bottom landing, backed up a few steps, and launched himself into the air.

Janice gasped.

But the boy landed, upright and on his feet in the entryway, grinning confidently and looking none the worse for wear. He had greenish-blue eyes and was wearing a slightly oversized navy-blue Falmouth Atlantics jersey and jeans. But what really caught everyone's attention was the feather strapped to the back of his head by a worn leather band.

"Hey-lo!" the boy called out. He thumped his chest. "Henry."

Susan smiled wryly. "Janice, Jack. Meet my little angel, Henry."

Henry thumped his chest again, nodding his head vigorously.

Wallace knelt in front of his son. "You know your grandparents, right? Well, this here's your Aunt Janice, that's your Uncle Jack with Grandpa, and the little boy your aunt's holding, that's Cousin Mark. He's your age."

His son held up two fingers, and Wallace nodded, grinning with pride.

Mark's eyes were wide. He still had no idea what was going on. Who were all these people? And this other boy?

"Henny?" Mark asked timidly.

Wallace chuckled. "Again, he's close."

"Hen-_ry_," Henry corrected, thumping his chest.

"Uh-oh," Mark said.

Everyone grinned at that.

* * *

_A/N: As usual, reviews would be appreciated. Opinions so far?_

_I might like to point out that this is set in the same AU as my TGS/Supernatural crossover "The Hidden Truth", albeit in the past. Hence any seemingly out-of-place terms._

_The story will be longer, though I'm not figuring on more than another chapter or two at most._


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